


Words For Just You

by ice_hot_13



Category: SSX Tricky
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ice_hot_13/pseuds/ice_hot_13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac and Viggo didn't get along last season, and something Mac said has yet to leave either's thoughts. The new season appears to be driving them further apart from the beginning. Unless, of course, someone's lying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mac, reluctantly the most memorable

The back-and-forth ranting had always been normal. As Mac tore down the slopes, he would yell taunts over his shoulder at whoever was back there, and for that last race, it had been Viggo close to the entire time. The two had kept it up for most of every race, that one in particular. But, staring out the plane window, Mac was unable to recall even a single conversation they'd had besides those exchanges of hostilities, where the icy wind took their yells and tossed them around the empty forest for no one else to hear. But they'd never really talked beside that. And he wasn't exactly sure how he'd arrived at such a thought. Mac reinforced his attempt to screen it out, turning up his mp3 player's volume again. The icy look from the business man next to him told Mac that his music wasn't appreciated, and he reluctantly turned it back down. Outside was no distraction either. The foggy darkness just served to make the pane show his own reflection. He ran a hand through his brown hair, vanity running away with him for a moment as he realized with faint irritation that the faint reddish and blondish tint his genes graced him with wasn't visible in anything but sunlight. Mac sighed softly.  _I definitely shouldn't have said that._ It was at least the five-hundredth-and-sixty-seventh time he'd decided that. He'd been obsessing over it since the moment he'd said it.  _Just… fuck it,_ he thought, also for the four-hundred-and-sixty-seventh time. Viggo, he was sure, would have forgotten it by now. He had to have. Mac wound a loose thread from his hoodie's sleeve around his finger, biting his lip.  _He had to have forgotten. He can't remember. That would suck way too majorly._ Mac tried to remove the Swede from his thoughts, turning back to the window.  _And it was so damn memorable too,_ he recalled sulkily, _since I ran into the finish sign right afterwards._

Allegra and Griff were sitting at a table before the café. Griff was seeing how far back he could tip his chair without falling, and Allegra was seeing if staring at him would make him so nervous he'd fall.

"Allegra, you're freaking me out!" Griff whined, curling his fingers around the edge of the table to hold against falling back. Allegra smirked and kept staring, resting her chin in her hand. "Allegra!" Another smirk, and the stare intensified. She was sure to think menacing thoughts, convinced it would push him over from all the negative energy. "Allegra!" Griff's fingers slipped against the tile tabletop, and he hit the ground. Allegra leaned over, nearly getting kicked in the face by his kicking. "Ow…" Griff righted his chair and sat back down, not even noticing that quite a few people were staring at him.

"Can't I leave you two alone for two minutes without you causing chaos?" Elise pulled out a chair and sat down. As usual, the model-material blonde wore discreetly designer clothing, and when next to Allegra, was quite a contrast, as Allegra was in cargo pants and a shirt that showed her midriff, with long, fishnet-like sleeves. Allegra arched an eyebrow, giving Elise a look.

"Did'ya ever think that chaos just follows  _you?_ I mean, just as you come back, stupid kid here decides to smash into the floor-"

"Shut it."

"Where'd you even go? Waltz off to find some stud model to seduce?" Allegra sneered, and Elise glowered at her, eyes like the coldest sort of ice.

"Before this tour is over, I swear I'll kill you." Allegra wasn't even fazed. To demonstrate this, she yawned, playing with the ends of her braids.

"Nice of you. So? Where were you, then? Slashing taxi tires?"

"That sounds more like something you'd do. I was just looking for the others." This got her only a blank look from both the other two.

"The… others." Allegra repeated. Griff's eyes widened.

"You mean… the others?" he asked in a hushed voice. "Like… we're really not alone?" He got only puzzled looks in return. Griff saw their lack of response and took it as confirmation. " _ALIENS!_ " he screamed, leaping out of his chair and starting to sprint away. People turned in their seats to stare at the screaming and running boy.

"Hold up there" Elise reached out and yanked him back by his hood. Griff stumbled back.

"What the  _hell_ are you talking about?" Allegra added. Griff looked between them wildly, brown eyes reflecting his honest shock.

"Aliens! Elise said that the 'others' are here!  _Alieeennnssss!_ "

"Griff" Elise said firmly, snapping his hood down so he fell back into his chair, "I mean the  _others._ You know. Kaori, Viggo and Zoe.

"Oh." Griff's shoulders slumped. " _Those_ others…"

"Yeah. They were all coming with us to meet Mac."

"Where'd they go?" Allegra asked.

"I don't know." Griff's eyes widened at Elise's words, and she held up a hand as he opened his mouth, eyes widening again, "But I'm  _sure_ that they were not abducted by aliens."

"So where are they? Now that you mention them, yeah, they were here for like, half an hour!"

"I'm surprised you forgot" Elise rolled her eyes. "Seeing as you took the opportunity to try and lock Zoe in the men's bathroom."

"Well, who else could I do it to?" Allegra made a face at her, "Viggo probably would have enjoyed getting thrown into the ladies' room, the stupid womanizer."

"Right" Elise raised her gaze to the ceiling, "he's a womanizer, Zoe's a secret serial killer, and Brodi's the embodiment of wheatgrass, right?"

"Oh, and you're the devil's mistress" Allegra added, not understanding her sarcasm. Elise pursed her lips. "So where are they, anyways?"

"Ditched, most likely."

"Oh, yeah" Griff looked up. "I forgot, but I remember now. I'd said 'I wonder when Mac's plane is coming' and then they kinda got all weird and ditched. Viggo was going to drive, but Zoe took the keys and hit him in the head, so he started whining and then Kaori tripped him by mistake and he ran into a wall, so she started saying she was so sorry about a million times, and then Kaori saw this little shop and wanted to go in, but Zoe said no, and-"

"Maybe they went to the ER" Allegra suggested. "I mean, Viggo could have gotten a concussion, right? Zoe hits  _damn_ hard! Not as hard as me, of course, but you know-"

"No, they were leaving when that happened" Griff started leaning back in his chair again; Elise reached out for the back of his chair, and slammed it back onto its four legs.

"Why?" Allegra asked vaguely, but already half knew the answer. "I mean, I know why Kaori would ditch, but why the other two?"

"Most likely, Moby called Zoe and invited her to do something, and Viggo just plain got bored" Elise rolled her eyes, swiping Allegra's cup of iced tea from in front of her and taking a sip. "Typical, really. Shoulda asked whose plane it was before they came. Oh, and you really need to branch out more. Try new flavors besides just lemon iced tea" Allegra snatched her iced tea back, making a face at Elise.

"Or maybe he's not just a womanizer, he's also secretly helping with the plans for a time machine, and they had an emergency meeting because people suddenly started coming out of the past, so-" Allegra began, but Elise silenced her with a look. "It was just an idea…" Allegra muttered, pouting. "I  _like_ lemon iced tea. That's not closed-minded, not like  _you_ are. And you never know, he could be a time-machine maker, so he can go in the past and be a womanizer then, too. You're so closed-minded."

"It's called not being crazy!"

"OW!" Griff yelped as he hit the ground again. The two girls just sighed.

Even though he'd spent over six hours convincing himself that it didn't matter and that it was already forgotten, Mac was still on edge as he weaved his way through the airport, hoping the snow gods- they'd been nice to him so far, he figured, so why not now?- that he'd have some sort of warning before meeting him again, and that when he did-

"MAC!"

"Aiiiieeee!" Mac's knees buckled from the sudden added weight as someone tackled him from behind. He flung out his arms to catch himself, catching hold of the arm of one of the seats in the terminal. He clung to it for dear life, as whoever had attacked him fell and somersaulted away from him… taking his baggy jeans with them. "Oh. My. Fucking. God. GRIFF!" He howled, glaring over his shoulder at the small boy sitting on the floor, who had Mac's jeans in hand. People walking by stared, reminding Mac that not only was he only clad in boxers where he'd once had jeans, but he was also in the middle of a busy terminal. Mac curled up closer to the chair, feeling himself blush dark scarlet.

"Oops. My mistake" Griff looked at him placidly. For all his response- or lack thereof- he may have simply made a spelling mistake, not rendered Mac the object of all desperately undesired attention in the middle of an airport.

"Give me those!" He snatched back his jeans, but Griff hardly even noticed his outrage, starting to go through Mac's backpack.

"I've been dying for you to get here! I got to level sixty four and I'm stuck, and-  _ooh_ there's a buckle in your backpack, that's for a skateboard, huh, but you can't even skateboard because you're bad with wheels I remember that, because you fell when you tried Moby's skateboard, and  _ooh_ I found your game guide, can I read it, can I, please, please, please, can I? And  _ooh_ -" Mac ignored the twelve-year-old as he yanked his jeans back on, wishing desperately he hadn't forgotten a belt that morning.

"Oh, my God…" girls' hysterical laughter was heard, and Mac blushed even harder. Elise and Allegra were both laughing themselves breathless. "Nice entrance, Mac" Elise gasped out. "Very… memorable."

"I so wish I'd had a camera" Allegra convulsed into laughter.

"Shut up." Mac got to his feet, wish becoming a desperate plea to not be blushing so much. He stormed off past the giggling blonde and snickering brunette, trying to hold onto his last shred of dignity.  _Don't look back. Pretend you weren't just stripped of your_ _ **damn pants**_ _in the_ _ **middle of the airport**_ **.** _Auuugghhh…_ _it's hopeless!_

"Genius, the baggage claim is the other way!" Elise sang out. Mac felt himself turn scarlet. "To your left."

"I know that" he announced. Several people looked over their shoulders to stare at him. Mac turned and walked away.

"Your… other… left…" Allegra struggled to speak between laughing. Mac clenched his teeth and tried again. Something was swung at his head, though, and he stumbled.

"Forgot your bag!"

"That's it" He growled, "I'm goin' back home!" He snatched up his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder and nearly knocking himself off balance, and stalking off back in the direction he'd come.

"Wrong way, Mac!"

"Damn  _everything!"_ Mac stood there until they came over and directed him towards the escalator. "I could have found my way to the lodge by myself, you know" Mac grumbled, pushing past people in order to keep up with the girls and distance himself from the babbling Griff.

"You had a bigger welcoming party, but half ditched" Allegra said cheerfully, leading the way through the crowd. "Guess you've got that effect on people."

"Shut up. Who ditched me? I'm gonna get 'em later!"

"Zoe, Viggo and-" Elise stopped, though, and reconsidered.

"Kaori" Griff filled in for her, completely oblivious. Allegra groaned and Elise rolled her eyes. Mac hadn't been listening, though. He'd stopped paying attention after the second name.

By the time they arrived at the lodge, Mac was thoroughly flustered, Griff had yet to take a breath from his constant babble, and the girls couldn't have gotten better entertainment anywhere else. Mac hauled his bags out of the car, resolving to make them far more easy to identify- he'd picked up the wrong luggage multiple times, which had proved to be just endlessly amusing for the girls- and looked up at the lodge. It was two stories high, with the typical mountain-rugged appearance, snow surrounding it, windows fogged up, four-wheel-drives parked in front. Elise and Allegra both ran to be the first inside, doubtlessly to tell everyone about the airport. Mac sighed and slammed the topgate down.  _At least I'm here,_ was his reassuring thought.

Viggo, meanwhile, was lying across the leather armchair, watching the scenes around him with interest. The main room of the lodge had black leather furniture, a widescreen TV mounted above the fireplace, and a bay window overlooked the forest surrounding the lodge. Moby and Psymon were stealing the TV remote back and forth, Kaori was curled up in the corner of the couch reading, and Zoe was talking to Brodi. Viggo, Kaori and Zoe had been at the airport an hour previously, but each had found their own reason to leave. Zoe, Viggo knew, had just gotten bored, and Kaori must have had her own reason, and Viggo himself did too. The front door flew open and Allegra jumped through, Elise just behind her.

"Mac's here, and Griff tackled him in the airport and-" Allegra began to announce, but Elise then stepped up.

"And yanked off Mac's ridiculously jeans by accident-"

"Leaving him without pants in the middle of the airport!" Allegra finished with a bright smile. The other boarders stared at her.

"Seriously?" Moby let Psymon snatch the remote and looked between the two. Viggo decided to pay attention, due to the mention of Mac. Mac's last words had been echoing around in his mind ever since the past winter.

"You're sayin' he was in the middle of the terminal wearing only boxers?" Viggo couldn't hide a smirk, especially since Mac walked in exactly as he said it. Mac flushed deep scarlet and turned to glare at the two girls.

"You so didn't tell them!" Their giggling fits confirmed that they had done exactly that. Whatever response Mac may have had was cut off when the director of the tour walked in from the kitchen, where he'd been making a phone call.

"Is everyone here?" he looked around, counting people, and waited until Griff ran in from outside. "Great. Room assignments are here. No complaints this time" he sent a meaningful look at Psymon. "No mysteriously disappearing beds, either." The director handed the list to Elise, rattled off the number of his cell again and said that it was also taped to the refrigerator as he knew no one was listening to him at the moment, and took off.

"I'm with  _you"_ Elise said to Allegra, rolling her eyes. "In room one. Griff's with Brodi in room two. Kaori and Zoe are in three."

"Thank God" Zoe said, getting to her feet, "Cuz  _you,_ Elise, are a total nightmare of a roommate."

"Right, because I really enjoyed getting woken up every morning at three-"

"It was only once" Moby interrupted, "and we were going to see a movie, and you  _were_ invited, but-"

"But I've got better stuff to do at three AM. Like sleep." Elise looked back to the list. "Moby and Psymon in four."

"So, uh, what was the dude sayin' about disappearing beds?" Moby asked as Psymon started for the stairs. Psymon just smirked. "Hey, if I get locked out of my room or whatever, someone better let me bunk with them." He ran up the stairs after Psymon, yelling. "Mate, you better not do anything to that lock, you hear me?!"

"Mac and Viggo in five. " Mac grabbed the list from her to confirm it for himself. Yes, their names were there. Viggo breezed by, shooting him a smirk. For a moment, Mac thought that maybe Viggo wouldn't remember-

"Catch you upstairs" there was precise word choice that Mac instantly noticed. Mac scowled, thoughts dark.  _Fuck. He remembers._

He grabbed his stuff and tramped upstairs. Down the hallway, rooms one, three and five were on the right, two and four on the left, followed by two bathrooms, which several of the girls beat the guys to, as that was where the best mirrors were. Mac forced himself to open the door to room five. The room was fairly large, with a long window along one wall. One of the beds was next to it, the other not even a foot away from it, and at the other end of the room were two dressers and one closet. He couldn't see Viggo, but when he heard a crash from the closet, he assumed that Viggo was currently losing a fight with the clothes hangers. Viggo looked out when he heard the door close.

"Which bed d'you want?"

"Uh… don't care." Mac let his duffle bag fall to the floor, sliding his backpack from his shoulder. Viggo threw his backpack across the room, where it bounced onto the bed farther from the window.

"That one's mine, then." Mac just nodded. Silence ensued. Viggo hardly noticed, still trying to untangle the clothes hangers. Mac wandered over to the window. "You comin' downtown?" Viggo gave up on the hangers, grabbing a jacket out of his duffle bag and pulling it on. Mac just looked at him in confusion. "Everyone's goin' out, cuz there's nothing to do around here" Viggo pulled open the door to the hallway, "catch ya downstairs." The door closed. Mac kicked his backpack, frowning at Viggo's  _so_ deliberate wording.  _Why does he have to remember?_


	2. No apparent reason

_Catch ya downstairs. Damn him. Could he be any meaner?_ Mac kicked his empty duffle bag into a corner of the closet, then crossed the room again and slammed the last drawer shut. Viggo had been gone only three minutes- Mac had used the time to throw all his clothing into his dresser- and already Mac was in a state of wrath again. He snatched his room key and left, deciding that if he didn't join them, Viggo would see it as a kind of… backing down, or something. And Mac was not someone to back down. Ever.

Mac was, however, someone to get lost very easily. Half an hour later, he was looking for the rest of the group in the restaurant. Mac had already gone over half of it six times, telling the waiter that kept asking him if he was looking for someone that he didn't need any help, and to leave him alone already. Mac was two seconds from giving up, when he heard a voice he recognized.

"I am so excited that we will be here over Halloween!" Allegra's squeal of a voice, something Mac had always found to be of a high contrast to her looks, helped him to find the group in the restaurant that was more sports bar than grill; they were far from the anyone-section, and were currently occuping a table in the 21-and-over section. Mac shouldered his way through the crowd in that direction until he got to the high table nearly everyone was grouped around. He chose to avoid the half with Psymon, Viggo and Moby, however, sidling up to the nearer half that Elise, Allegra and Zoe were sitting around. Kaori, Brodi and Griff he'd passed in the grill.

"Please tell me you're not one of those immature people that will be dressing up-" Elise started to say, but Allegra cut her off.

"I'm gonna be a  _pirate!"_ Allegra squealed. "It's the hottest costume ever!"

" Dawg, you can't be serious." Mac received a cuff in the head from Allegra for his remark.

"Shut up, or I'll make you dress up, too."

"Not on yo'  _life!"_

"Oh, I'd so tie you to a chair to keep you from hiding from her" Zoe contributed cheerfully, giving him a sinister smirk. "This is one thing I'd help Allegra to do." Allegra rolled her eyes at that, but smirked all the same.

"You  _wouldn't!"_ Mac protested loudly. Elise snickered.

"I think there're a lot of people who'd help her, if you choose to tick everyone off."

"That's not even  _fair,_ you can't all gang  _up_ on me like that!"

In the grill section, the conversation was far less menacing. Kaori was only nineteen, and didn't want to sneak into the bar like the others had, and Brodi, although just twenty-one, wasn't a drinker. And both had taken pity on Griff and joined him so he wouldn't be alone. He was rather entertaining, anyways.

"Aliens? Griff-kun, I am not sure I am following this theory of yours" Kaori giggled, looking from the napkin on which Griff had been illustrating his theory.

"If aliens were to invade the world, they would turn all the fish into zombies" Brodi explained, laughing. "According to Griff theory."

"But… why the fish?" Kaori asked. Brodi shrugged.

"Because they… can? I suppose?"

At the other tables, meanwhile, the conversations were just as, if not more, entertaining.

"I think tape would be the best." Zoe was saying.

"No, rope." Allegra countered.

" _I_ think that a barricade would work better than either of those" Elise contributed. Mac was sitting on one of the high chairs, sipping from a drink and watching them argue about how they would trap him so they could dress him up for Halloween.

"You ain't even old enough to drink" Moby remarked, shooting Mac a glare across the table at Mac. Mac scoffed.

"Dawg, you're  _too_ old to be drinkin', so shut it."

"Just wait'll you get drunk, I'll take advantage of it and murder you"

"Like I'd give you that chance." In truth, it was something Mac prided himself on- he fully intended to never experience being drunk. Not after all the stories of what stupid things people did when they were drunk enough to stop thinking. And he certainly didn't want to be so vulnerable in  _this_ crowd.

"Yeah, I think it'd be kind of fun to get him drunk" Viggo said, none too discreetly, to Moby, who snickered.

"Mate, your mind scares me."

"What, you think I'll kill him?" Viggo gave him a wicked smile. "You don't give my creativity enough credit." He glanced at the clock on his phone and hopped out of his chair.

"Goin' already?" Moby asked, shaking his head as if in disappointment. "Mate, you know it's a sorry night when the best partier turns in early."

"Sorry to dissapoint, man. But I'm jetlagged as hell, and all this talk of tying people to chairs is a little scary." Before leaving, though, he stopped by Mac's chair, leaning over to say, "catch ya later, roomie." And then he was gone, leaving Mac to simmer with visible anger.

"What?" Zoe arched an eyebrow at Mac's pouty expression. "Since when does 'catch ya later' get so much rage? I ought to say it more often.."

"It's nothing. Just a, uh, thing..." Mac stumbled through an excuse, knew it was convincing no one of anything. He fiddled with the lemon on his glass, deliberately avoiding their gazes.

"I think I'll go back too" Allegra said next, "Race tomorrow and all. Gotta be in good shape to whip all your asses." Mac watched her leave, thinking about the looming race.  _I'll keep my mouth shut during this one, that's fer sure,_ he thought sulkily,  _I don't know if it was just me being an idiot or what, but I swear I didn't mean that last time. Bet he thinks I did, damn it. But I'm saying nothing next time! I didn't fucking mean it!_ He frowned down at the table,  _so how come I even said it?_ There seemed to be no obvious reason, none at all.

The scene replayed in his head for the umpteenth time. Racing down the slopes, first place, Viggo right after him, there'd been no one else around to hear.

"I'll never catch you at this rate" Viggo had been complaining, slicing through the snow to try and prove his statement wrong. Mac had just laughed. He still couldn't remember what, if anything, he'd been thinking, but the next thing that had come out of his mouth had given him something to think about for the next year, and, apparantly, something Viggo hadn't forgotten, either. Mac could still hear his words; they echoed in his mind in the same way they'd echoed in the icy winds,

"Man, I'd  _let_ you catch me!"


	3. Hiding From the Pumpkin

Mac couldn't believe himself. The day's races were over, and as evening drew in, he was trudging through the snow back to the lodge, snowboard dragging behind him. Something, he'd decided, was sincerely wrong with his... whatever it was. mind, subconscious, something. Whatever it was that had allowed him to say something so... so... so  _flirty_ to Viggo. The last thing he'd said, there was the off chance that it could have been interpreted differently. However, there were very few ways to interpret what he'd said  _this_ time. Thinking it over, he groaned. He'd been racing along after Viggo, at the head of the pack of snowboarders, and they'd been yelling about... something, he couldn't quite recall. Viggo had yelled something about wanting to find better competition before he died of boredom. Mac had replied, to his private horror, "I'm your boy!" And Viggo had laughed with some sort of devilish delight and shouted back, "Yeah? Are ya?!", to which Mac had groaned, "NO! auuugghh  _fuck_  why do I keep  _saying_ these things?!"

It was staring to truly get to him, and in his haze, he nearly ran into Brodi, who stood at the entrance to the gondola building. The gondola to the bottom of the mountain had already left, leaving Mac, Brodi and Psymon.

"Grasshopper, what's wrong?" Brodi asked, concern on his face. Mac just scowled.

"Dawg, I am  _not_ a grasshopper. How many times d'I have to tell you this? Do I  _look_ like a freaky little green bug?"

"Actually-" Psymon cut in from where he was walking on top of the railing. Mac snarled.

"Forget it, man."

"Listen, grasshopper-"

"Seriously, dude, I'm not a bug!"

"Okay, my friend" Brodi gave Mac the smile that said he was hiding his boundless amusement.

"I just... hey, man, you're all Zen and stuff, right?" Mac asked, brightening. Brodi arched an eyebrow. "Well, can I ask you a question?"

"of course, Mac."

"Well... uhmmm... if someone says something they don't mean to, does that mean they actually, like, feel that way or somethin'?"

"You mean, if what you say comes from your subconscious?"

"Uhmmm... yeah. Yeah. That." Mac felt a blush appear on his face. "So, like, if someone says somethin'... they might, like, actually  _mean_ it without knowin' they mean it? Like that?"

"I believe so. Otherwise, why would you say it?" Brodi gave him that maddeningly peaceful smile. "Apparently, some part of you feels that way, so it just happens to get past your conscious thought and you say it."

"Oh." Mac frowned. "Uh... thanks man." The new information certainly didn't help him any.

Upon reaching the lodge, Mac froze.

"Oh, my God." He backtracked, only to run into Brodi, "dude!"

"That..." Brodi frowned, "that is abusive to pumpkins."

"Dawg, that's the  _least_ of anyone's worries!" Mac made a face, staring wide-eyed at the scene before them. Pumpkins littered the snow, cardboard cut-outs making it into a makeshift graveyard. The screaming faces carved into the pumpkins only added to the effect. "I think Allegra's aspiring to be a serial killer."

"Or the number one enemy to vegetarians."

"Riiiiight." Mac shook his head, starting up to the lodge. "Yo, Allegra! Get your crazy-ass pumpkins out of the lodge right-" He flung open the door, "AAAUUUUGGGHHHKKK!!"

"Hya-h!" Allegra thrust the tip of her plastic sword at Mac's face, as he ducked, shielding his face with his arms, screaming. "Gotcha!" Wild giggling made Mac curse and sulk.

"You look like a stripper" he muttered, peeking out from the shield of his arms, turning a critical gaze from Allegra's six-inch-heel boots to the plumed hat and low-cut corset.

"That's the point of Halloween! Go slutty or go home! And speaking of," She grinned, "I'm gonna make you dress up! I have a pumpkin costume, lemme go get it!"

"Pumpkins aren't slutty!" he screamed after her, making Zoe stare at him as she walked through the door to the kitchen.

Mac seized his chance; as soon as Allegra pranced into the next room and her evil-sounding laughter faded, he bolted for his room.

When he heard her following him, he dove through the doorway into the dark room and bolted for the closet. He flung himself inside, and was met with an unhappy growl.

"Get out of my closet, Mac..." Viggo grumbled in the dark, pushing him away. Mac settled on the floor in the opposite corner.

"Man, what're  _you_ doin' in here?"

"Hiding from Allegra. She wanted to put me in a bunny costume."

"I see..." Mac leaned back against the wall, squinting in the darkness to see Viggo slouched against the opposite wall, their jackets and clothing hanging overhead. "I can see it."

"Shut up." Viggo was smirking, though.

"Better than mine, though. She wanted me to be a pumpkin..." His words made Viggo burst out laughing. "Shut up, dude." He sighed heavily. "Man, this is the worse Halloween ever."

"Hnnh. Stuck with me?"

"Stuck in a  _closet,_ man." Mac heaved a sigh again, "It could have been worse. Like a bathtub."

"With Psymon" Viggo snickered.

"And Moby."

"And Psymon's cat."

"Isn't that thing dead?" Mac asked, "Electrocuted or something?"

"Exactly."

"And with Elise, too."

"And Allegra." Viggo added.

"After she ruined Elise's lipstick"

"And beat her in a race."

"Man" Mac grinned, "that's one big bathtub."

"Bathtub from hell."

"Yeah. I'd rather be here with you."

"In a closet" Viggo laughed.

"In the freakin' dark, too."

"Tiny, too."

"And no food."

"Or candy..." Viggo sounded particularly sulky about this particular fact.

"Or TV..."

"Or music."

"You're right." Mac said, "this does suck. Thank God you're here, man. And I'd rather it be you than anyone else, anyways."

It had happened again, he realized, as Viggo laughed.

It had happened, but without the excuse of being in the midst of the heat of racing to explain why the words fell from his mouth.

Mac hissed a curse, standing up abruptly, "I'm gonna try my luck with Allegra and the pumpkin costume instead. Forget this."

"What're you whining about now?" Viggo looked up at Mac jerked the door open. "Nothing!" Mac gave him what Viggo had dubbed the demon snarl, "see you around."

He'd stalked out before Viggo could figure out what in the world he'd said wrong.


	4. Something about blondes, sometimes

Sometimes, Mac wondered if he was invisible. Just to make sure, he checked his reflection in the kitchen window behind him- no, he was still visible. He picked up a spoon, and his reflection was there too. Same with his phone. Despite the fact that he was most definitely not invisible, Elise and Zoe were talking like they were alone in the kitchen.

"-I don't think it's particularly good news," Elise was saying, glaring down into her coffee.

"How could you have a problem with  _him?"_

"What do you mean by that?" Elise said coldly, making Zoe roll her eyes.

"Don't go all princess on me, Elise. What do I mean by that? You couldn't find a nicer, less offensive guy on earth! How can you pick a fight there?"

"I never said he wasn't nice, I just said I didn't like him. There's a difference."

"Oh, right," Zoe gave an exaggerated face of understanding, "Because I hate nice people, but always like jerks. Those things aren't related at all!" Her expression instantly returned to the confused frown, "now why the hell would you hate a guy like that?"

" _Because,"_ Elise sighed, "don't you read what the media writes about us?"

"Uh... no?"

"Well, I do, as does the rest of the civilized world. And do you know what they say? Do you?"

Elise snapped. Mac studied the spoon in his hand, confirming his visibility.  _Yup, still in the room. Maybe they don't realize I'm here._ Not that he was complaining; it was more interesting when they forgot he existed. Even so, jumping up and down waving his arms to demand attention was definitely tempting.

"Clearly not, Elise." Zoe replied, rolling her eyes. "Care to tell me before you hyperventilate?"  
"I do not  _hyperventilate."_ Elise said flatly, and Zoe shrugged. "And they say he's  _in love with me._ Can you blame me  _now?!"_ Zoe was staring at her, open-mouthed. "Exactly!"

"I can't believe that!" Zoe continued to gape at her, "Is that  _true?_  I mean- wow..."

"I know!"

"And you, I suppose, don't love him back?" Zoe asked, somewhat sarcastically, and Elise frowned.

"We're just  _friends._ I don't want to deal with this, I really don't, I mean, what do you say to someone?"

"Sorry, I don't love you, go fawn over someone else?" Zoe suggested in a tone that made her seem far more helpful than she was actually being, "it would work."

"Hardly" Elise shook her head, setting down her coffee cup in the sink, "when's he coming?"

"Sometime today, I guess."

"They shouldn't let him come late," Elise muttered as she fixed her scarf.

"His qualifying races finished later than ours. Snowstorms. You wanna take it up with the weather?" Elise glowered. "I've been wondering, is it because you're blonde that you're so stubborn, or is that a you thing?" They left bickering. Moby walked into the kitchen next, stopped at the sight of Mac.

"Mac?"

"Yup."

"What, uh... what're you  _doing?"_

"What's it look like I'm doin'?"

"Uh... trying to bend that spoon with your mind?" Moby then smirked, "must be hard without a brain."

"I hate you," Mac grumbled, flinging down the spoon. Moby walked back out, still snickering.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All in all, Viggo thought the practice run had gone very well. He'd kept the falling to a minimum, beat Zoe and won their twenty-dollar bet, and avoided Psymon's flying tackle. Mac had stayed at least ten meters away from him at all times, however, and Viggo couldn't quite figure out why. As he trudged through the snow, fervently going over everything he could have done to make Mac hate him and coming up with nothing, he heard shouting from behind.

"Allegra!" Psymon was calling; Viggo instinctively flinched at his voice, then turned. Psymon had come to a stop before Allegra, "I want to tell you something," he said, seemingly not noticing that every single boarder was staring openly at them.

"What?" Allegra seemed likewise oblivious. Viggo wondered vaguely if that was their permanent state of being.

"Allegra, I'm in love with you," Psymon announced, making her blush a happy pink and throw her arms around him. Viggo decided then was an excellent time to leave, others deciding the same as well.

"That was interesting," Moby grinned, catching up to Viggo.

"Figured it'd happen eventually," Zoe said, "given the way she followed him around." Her and Moby started debating who'd liked who first. Viggo tuned them out, returning to his confused speculation.

"Before that, she made him a cake for his birthday"

"-but before  _that_ , he took her on a picnic."

"But it was on a roof."

"It's still a picnic."

"Even so, she went to a concert with him."

"He celebrated her quarter birthday."

"Ow!" Viggo stumbled back, blinking at the car that definitely hadn't been in front of the base that morning. They'd arrived at the cabin-like building, and the parking lot had been inarguably empty before.

"Nice car," Moby completely missed the fact that Viggo was sporting a near-bruise on his cheek, "it's big."

"Uh. Who's that?" Viggo asked, rubbing his cheek and hobbling towards the base deck. Someone he'd never seen before was sitting on one of the wooden tables. If he hadn't known quite how distracted he was before, this would have served as solid proof. The man was blonde and blue-eyed, all broad shoulders and toned muscles, and Viggo barely noticed. "You a new boarder?" he called out.

"Me?" The guy looked up, head cocked.

 _"Nate!"_  Mac's shout interrupted them, "What're you doin' here, man?" For a disjointed moment, Viggo wondered if Mac thought the blonde was Nate, then noticed Nate coming out of the building.

"Just got here," Nate grinned, "race was snowed out. But I still qualify."

"That's awesome!" Mac jumped up the stairs past Viggo-  _thanks for noticing I exist,_  Viggo thought darkly- "you missed Psymon declaring his love for Allegra, and you missed Halloween, too."

"Interesting... sorry I missed it." Nate hopped onto the table next to the unknown blonde.

"Has anyone seen a pair of glove-" Elise's voice cut off, "Oh. Nate." She walked off towards the lodge, following Moby and Zoe's footprints.

"What's with her?" Nate asked, frowning. Viggo shrugged, looking, uselessly, to Mac. The other boarder was pointedly looking away. Mac went into the base, and Viggo debated following him, decided it would be pointless. Scenarios still flitted through his mind, himself grabbing Mac by the hood and demanding, _what the hell is wrong with you?_ , or shoving him against a wall to ask  _what did I do to you?_ and  _why do you say weird stuff to me on the course and then ignore me?!_

"They need something besides a coffee place in there..." Nate was saying, like every year, "'stead of having to go to the bottom of the mountain."  
"There's the lodge kitchen," Viggo contributed.

"Besides," The blonde added, "'s why I'm here," he grinned, "brought lunch."

"No way! You're the best, you know that?" Nate beamed, and as Viggo passed by, he saw that the blonde was almost blushing. He was about to stop and ask, but the fact that Nate didn't appear to have taken notice told him enough.  _Something about blondes,_ Viggo thought, pushing open the door and instantly feeling the warmth of the room,  _doesn't seem to help anyone much around here._

Viggo carefully avoided even looking at Mac while getting coffee, and fled outside as soon as he could to rejoin the decidedly less hostile company on the deck. Moby and Zoe had returned, and Moby beckoned for Viggo to join them at the table. Viggo slid in next to the blonde, cutting an envious look at the Chinese food that had appeared.

"-but there's no point in having it," Moby was arguing, "it's an SUV, not a sports car."

"It's still a Porsche," Nate countered, proving himself useless with chopsticks.

"Bad millage," the blonde handed over a fork, "but good engine."

"Wonder if it can go two hundred," Nate said, stabbing at his food and discarding the chopsticks, then looked at the blonde and said, "three hundred," almost as an afterthought, or perhaps just second nature.

"But why would you need an SUV to go-" Zoe began, but cut off, "Dare I ask what he's doing?"

Psymon was whistling as he walked backwards through the snow, tossing down what looked like berries of some sort.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Zoe called over.

"What's it look like?" Psymon bounded up the steps of the deck, "It's art." He tossed the last strawberry into the snow.

"Right," Moby snickered. "Where'd you get strawberries this time of year, anyhow?"

"Trade secret." Psymon informed him stonily.

"Pretty... modern art, eh?" The blonde said, and Psymon looked at him.

"A compatriot! You're all right," he said, before jumping back over the railing, continuing his work as he sang something he claimed was "New Zealand's Theme Song," whose lyrics were never the same twice. "-aaaaand we've got pickles and alligators, and wouldn't you wanna seeeeee the way the lightening goes BOOM and the way the boats can all fly? I can levitate, how about you? Here's the funny thing about New Zimbabwe, it sure ain't here! Aaaaaaaand if you ever did see a surfer as neon as meeeeeeee-"

"I'll never understand that lunatic," Moby shook his head, "bloke's right crazy. And he can't even keep the stupid lyrics straight."

"Compatriot?" the blonde asked, turning bewildered blue eyes to Nate, who grinned.

"He's Canadian."

"He- um-" The blonde frowned, watching Psymon, "doesn't seem-"

"We think he was raised by jackals," Moby said cheerfully, "or Tasmanian devils. It would explain the song."

"Tasmanian devils are from New Zealand?" Nate asked, and Moby shrugged.

"Australia, maybe?"

As they debated it, Viggo remained in silence, thoughts flickering back and forth, wondering the same things again and again, wondering at Mac's sudden hatred for him, the fact that they haven't spoken in the week since Halloween, wondering over and over and over and coming up with nothing.

 _Maybe he'll never know,_ Viggo thought, watching the others as if from a distance, seeing the way Moby smiled differently for Zoe, the way Nate looked confused when Moby asked him what he'd done to anger Elise, the way the still-seemingly-nameless blonde listened to Nate. _Maybe Mac will never know how I hate it when he's hating me,_  he thought,  _but I doubt he cares about that anyways._

"Nate-kun!" Kaori's happy shriek made Viggo's head jerk up, "I didn't know you were racing!"

 _Oh, you have wonderful timing,_ Viggo thought, as he heard the door to the base open,  _this should be interesting._

"I-" Kaori cut off suddenly, turning scarlet and looking acutely like a deer caught in headlights, one mittened hand tugging on a pigtail, "I will see you all later. I have to go-" She'd hopped down the stairs and walked away before anyone could say anything. Nate looked pointedly over at Mac, who had a completely unreadable look on his face.

"Something going on?" he ventured.

"What makes you think that?" Mac said blankly, before walking away without a backwards glance.

Viggo wished he wouldn't do that so often.


	5. No one's telling, not anything to anyone

Viggo was determined to talk to Mac.

Mac was equally, if not more, hell-bent on avoiding him.

"Got a minute?" Viggo sprung out of the armchair when Mac walked in from the kitchen. Mac shook his head no.

"About to leave, actually." He kept walking, groaned inwardly when Viggo proceeded to follow him up the stairs.

"Just a minute."

"Uh- kinda busy, man. Can it wait?"

"Wait how long?" he followed Mac into their room. Mac went to the closet, pulling out a jacket, decidedly not looking at Viggo.

"I'unno. How late will you stay awake?" he shrugged on the jacket, not looking at the Swede sitting on the bed.

"Not sure."

"When you figure it out, add an hour, and that's your answer, man." He was out of the room before Viggo could protest, carefully avoiding meeting Viggo's frustrated glare. Mac wondered how long he'd be able to avoid talking to Viggo. No doubt he wanted to know why, when not coming on to the Swede, Mac was trying to stay as far away from him as possible. Anyone would want to know the reasoning for that kind of behavior. It was sorely tempting to snap out an answer that wasn't true, but guilt promised to shame him if he so much as tried.

"Comin' with us, Mac?" Nate was halfway out the door, pulling on a jacket.

"Most def, dude." Mac followed him out to where the cars were parked; Allegra was sitting on the hood of the SUV and Moby was gunning the engine of the Jeep, Psymon leaning forward from the backseat to play with the headlights. "I don't know who's a worse driver."

The front door slammed open, and Zoe jumped down the porch steps, yelling, "Shotgun for Moby's car!"

"No fair!" Allegra shrieked, and Zoe rolled her eyes.

"You're driving."

"Oh. Right. That." Allegra slithered off the hood and opened the drivers door. "Who's coming with me?" She turned on the headlights, illuminating the porch against the night. "I've got the better CD player!"

"Might be safer..." Nate muttered, casting a glance at Moby as the Jeep engine howled again, "he really scares me driving."

"I'm with you, man." Mac followed him across the snow, as Allegra leaned out the window.

"Hey, Elise!" she yelled, as Elise and Kaori came out of the lodge, "want shotgun?"

"No way!" Mac protested instantly, as Elise shook her head no.

"I'm going with Zoe and Moby."

"Whatever. Suit yourself." Allegra was already busying herself with flicking the brights on and off, "Kaori, want shotgun?"

"Do you really not wanna let me have it?" Mac griped, clambering into the leather backseat of the SUV. Allegra flashed him a deceptively innocent smile.

"Maybe I just don't like you."

"I would like it, yes" Kaori hopped into the passenger side seat, and Mac pointedly looked out the window to avoid meeting Nate's curious gaze.

By the time they hit eleven PM, Mac was starting to consider himself an expert on avoiding conversations. He'd spent the past two hours in the bar avoiding being along with Nate, no easy feat when Nate kept trying to catch him by himself. Mac was listening to Zoe and Moby tell about a competition they'd done in Australia that seemed to involve flying tackling and strange singing, when Allegra informed him that it was his turn to get drinks refilled. All good things have to come to an end, I guess, Mac thought bitterly as he turned from the group, seeing Nate slip away as well.

"Hey," Nate fell into step beside him, "got a question for ya."

"Shoot." Mac crossed his fingers in his pocket.

"There a reason Kaori won't look at you?" he asked, mildly enough, but Mac still felt something in him clench up.

"Uh..." They reached the bar and he leaned back against the counter, looking anywhere but at Nate, "well... you could say that."

"Something happened? It's weird, seeing you guys so..." Nate waved a hand as if to signify that something was out of sorts. Mac shrugged a shoulder. Truth be told, he'd stopped noticing that Kaori wouldn't talk to him, wouldn't look at him, wouldn't come near him. It was a desensitization, he told himself, although it was likely something he didn't want to admit.

"Kinda." Mac mumbled, staring down at his shoes. They were untied. He made a mental note to fix that before Psymon or someone decided to affix his laces to a table or something.

"Yeah? Last you told me, everything was good." Nate was watching him, arms crossed across his chest. Mac was an only child, but he expected having an older brother felt something like this; obligation to tell, guilt at keeping it a secret, and the relief that there was someone who would sort it out a little. He balked, though, at confessing it all. Much as he pretended otherwise, Nate wasn't his older brother; he had no obligation to help or even to care. Everything he did was, Mac always felt, sort of extra, and he was wildly grateful they were even having the conversation.

"What's the last thing I told you?" Mac asked, stalling, even though he could distinctly remember the texts he'd sent.

"Asking her out on her nineteenth birthday."

"Oh. Right." Mac fished for another question he could possibly ask, but it was nearly impossible to find one when he was supposed to be doing the answering. He could still hear the voices of the others in the group, beyond groups of people surrounding them. "We were still dating the next year. I broke up with her two months ago." The surprised look he got informed him that he still had a ways to go with breaking news to people in a fashion other than  _abruptly_ , something many people complained about.

"You broke up," Nate said, still sounded shocked. "What happened?"

"I..." Mac shrugged a shoulder, "I don't know. She, like... she really loved me. So I don't know. I'm probably screwed in the head somehow, to break up with her. She's sweet. She was always really happy to be together. I don't know what's wrong with me." he scuffed at the ground with the toe of his sneaker.

"That's not what I asked," Nate said gently, and Mac felt, again, that familiar  _why wasn't my life always like this_. He'd spent many practice runs imagining what his life would have been like if he'd had a brother. He'd have been alone far less frequently; everything, he felt sure, would have been easier. He imagined having a brother to help him ease the blow of delivering bad news to his parents.

"I don't know what happened. She loved me. So much, I always knew that, and she'd been so happy." He frowned down at the floor, "she'd been really happy."

"Gonna talk to her?" Nate asked, and Mac finally looked up at him, wide-eyed. "She very well could want to try again," Nate said, completely misinterpreting. Mac nodded.

"Maybe I'll talk to her," he said, thoughts floating away, "maybe. Maybe we'll talk, work things out."

Even after they'd rejoined the group, Mac's thoughts stayed stubbornly with the conversation.  _Maybe I should_ , he thought, hearing Kaori giggle at Zoe's story about the French snowboarder that wouldn't let anyone see his snowboard before the race, going as far as to carry it around covered by a sheet.

Much as he tried to tell himself, however, that he would fix things with Kaori, that he would get back together with her and be happy this time, it wouldn't work. His heart wasn't in it, hadn't been all along, and never would be.

Mac had never been one to admit defeat, but some things, he'd learned, were best left peacefully, if painfully, impossible.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was easy to induce paranoia. Nate had never felt so convinced that people were avoiding him. It was only seven in the morning, but already, suspicious insecurity had begun to set in. He was sitting at the kitchen table, watching steam rise from his coffee and wondering if he was losing his mind. Normally, Nate would never wake up before eight voluntarily, especially seeing as the races weren't until two o'clock, but his phone had started ringing, forcing him to search through the entire room before finding it in the pocket of a jacket he hadn't even worn recently, and by the time he'd picked up, he'd been fully prepared to snap at whoever had called him. It had been one of those few people who could wake him up at even one AM and suffer no consequences, calling out of boredom- or loneliness, Nate had teased- and he hadn't been irritated into even mild annoyance.

Now, however, he was regretting having to wake up so early. He'd run into Elise in the kitchen, and she'd barely looked at him before rushing out as if suddenly remembering that she'd not only left her car running in the driveway, but left a lit match in the cup holder. It wasn't something Nate thought she'd do, and he heavily suspected she was running away from him.

In all honesty, he was absolutely certain she was running away from him.

What truly nagged at him was the fact that he had no idea what he'd done. The last time he'd seen Elise had been at the last competition, no less than a year ago. They'd parted on friendly terms. He hadn't seen her since. The door to the kitchen swung open, and he looked up, half expecting to see Elise, checked to see whether he'd left yet, but it was only Viggo. This would have been news of a neutral nature, had Viggo not turned away from him with a frown.

"Hey," Nate ventured, as the Swede picked through the refrigerator. Viggo mumbled something. i Not him, too, i Nate thought in exasperation, wondering how many people would suddenly decide to despise him before the tour was over. i I've haven't been around long enough to tick anyone off! i He was frantically trying to call up any memory of anything he could have possibly done to offend both Elise, someone he'd always been friends with, and Viggo, the guy no one could upset. He doubted he could ask them; even if either would so much as speak to him, he couldn't imagine they'd be too willing to share. "You okay?" Nate tried. Viggo shrugged a shoulder.

"Yeah." He took a bagel out of the paper bag on the counter and walked out. Nate didn't miss the dark look Viggo sent his way before he left.

I must have done something, Nate thought, still completely unable to come up with anything, what the hell did I do?

Before he could torture himself further with the helpless questioning, his phone rang again. He snatched it up, nearly overturning the cup of coffee in his haste.

"You have no idea how awesome it is to hear from you."

"Again?" he heard that laugh, one that had quickly become so familiar, "even though it's the second time today, eh?" Nate sighed, watching the kitchen door warily, lest anyone else come in and decide to suddenly bitterly hate him.

"You have no idea. I think they're putting something in the water here. Everyone hates me."

"I don't," he said, and Nate could hear the smile. "And, hey, Nate?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't drink the water."


	6. Say anything

_Never again never again never again never again._

Mac all-but bolted away from the track when he finally hit the end. Viggo was still somewhere behind, oblivious to all the shortcuts Mac had used to get away from him. Mac was debating just sticking tape over his own mouth to solve the problem. No matter what he said, it was never right, and never helped, and he'd never meant to say any of it, none at all.

"Hey, Mac!" Mac jumped, whipping around so fast that he nearly fell over. Griff grinned at him. "You're kinda jumpy."

"You're kinda real damn annoying," Mac resumed trudging through the snow. "Also, I hate you."

"Wanna go play video games?" Griff was bouncing around him like a puppy, leaving footprints scattered in the snow.

"I'm busy."

"Maaaaaaaaac!" Griff pouted, kicking at the snow. Mac ignored him, continuing toward the base. "Can I come?" he jumped through the snow after Mac, "Where ya goin'? Can I come? Please please please?"

"No." He left his snowboard with the others outside the base, pushed open the door. Elise and Zoe were at the cafe, ordering coffee. "Elise! You seen Nate?" The blonde sent him an irritated look.

"Why would I have seen him?" she snapped, and Mac held his hands up in surrender.

"Whatever."

"He's at that ice rink," Zoe contributed, "past the lodge."

"Awesome." He ran through the doors, pushed Griff into the base and pulled the door shut before Griff could follow him.

Ten minutes later, Viggo entered the lodge to find the usual scene. Griff was begging the cafe server to put sprinkles on his hot chocolate, Elise and Zoe were talking at a table and drinking coffee, and Allegra was trying to jump into their conversation. Mac was gone, Viggo noted dully, something that was fast becoming standard. Viggo wandered over to the girls, figuring that was better than listening to Griff whine and the server tell him repeatedly that they didn't  _have_ sprinkles.

"Bahamas. Definitely." Elise was saying as Viggo slid out a chair.

"We'll stay at a hotel," Zoe said.

"No, a cottage."

"Cottage. With a pool."

"And hot tub."

"And team of lifeguards."

"Hand-picked."

"Can I come?" Allegra interrupted. Both girls turned to frown at her.

"It wouldn't be much of a dream vacation if you were there," Zoe explained. Viggo tuned them out, ignoring their bickering. He kept his gaze on the door, as if Mac would suddenly decide to not stay a mile away from him.

Mac was confusing. Viggo couldn't quite figure out what the other boarder wanted. During the practice race, Mac had been almost near him, yelling taunts and trying to distract him. He had succeeded when he shouted "Man, you got it goin  _on!"_  but had disappeared soon after.  
"You guys seen Mac?" he asked, looking up. THe girls paused in their argument over whether to rent a sports car or a convertible.

"He left a while ago," Zoe explained, "went looking for Nate, I think."

"Oh."

"Hi everyone!" Kaori's voice made Viggo look up when she approached.

"Kaori, you seen Mac out there?" he asked hopefully, and she nodded, but looked away.

"With Nate."

"Huh." Viggo tried very hard not to hold it against Nate, but even his most sincere attempt wasn't enough. Mac had spent most of the past two weeks with Nate, and Viggo no longer knew if he was more irritated with Mac, or jealous of Nate, because Mac had also spent the past few weeks avoiding him.

Viggo still had no idea why Mac wouldn't speak to him. By now, though, he was certain it was because Mac had found out that Viggo was more than a little in love with him.

xxxxxxxxx

Mac, meanwhile, had found the outdoor ice rink, where a hockey team was practicing. Nate was leaning against the bleachers, half watching.

"Hey," Mac greeted him cheerfully, "didn't think you played."

"I can't even skate," Nate shook his head, brown eyes flickering from the ice to Mac, "that would be a disaster."

"Know someone on the team?"  
"Yeah. You missed meeting him yesterday. He's the goalie." Nate gestured towards the goal at the other end of the ice, "Johan." Mac nodded, eager to have found a topic that didn't star himself.

"Lives round here, I guess?"

"Uh-huh. That's how we met. I got an apartment here, and he's in the same building. Known him for a year or so." He watched the ice for a few minutes, as the team took turns shooting on the goalie, most shots deflected. "What's up with you and Viggo?"

"Say what?" Mac stammered, and Nate half smiled.

"What, you think I don't notice?" he shook his head, "you only avoid him like crazy. And he spends all his time hunting you down."

"It's nothing," Mac refused, "just nothing."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. We're fine."

"Just like things between you and Kaori are fine, huh?" Nate said, and Mac swore under his breath.

"No one else sees these things."

"Maybe they just don't tell you," Nate said, the only thing he could have said that would make Mac worry even more.

"Great," Mac mumbled, "that's just great. You got me, a'ight? I'm not gettin' back together with Kaori because I don't love her and I never even did. I just asked her out because she wanted me to."

"Not exactly the greatest foundation for a relationship."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that one out on my own, thanks." Mac crossed his arms over his chest. He waited a moment, but when no lecture followed, wandered away from the bleachers, down the ice. The goalie was scuffing back and forth over the ice, some teammate still taking turns snapping pucks at him.

"Hey, Johan!" One called out, swooping by the net, "your boyfriend's watching again."

"He's really got the hots for ya, eh?" another added, as his shot was easily deflected.

"Shut up," Johan growled, snatching the next puck out of the air.

"At least, you probably wish he did," the first teammate said casually, smirking.

"Goddamn it, shut up," he snarled, turning to glare at the player and missing the next shot on goal. The puck rang against the goalpost, and the sound echoed across the ice like a shot.

"They don't mean it," another player skated over to retrieve the scattered pucks, and Johan just shook his head and said nothing, pushing the puck that got by him out of the goal with his stick. "Just messing with you. You know that." He had a "c" on his jersey, Mac noticed, figured he was the captain.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Johan muttered, "but-" the player tapped his stick against the goalie's skate, smiled a little, sadly.

"I know."

Mac wandered back over to Nate, who was waiting by the boards as Johan skated over, practice finished. Mac didn't say anything, just watched them talk about what to get for lunch, the goalie acting like everything that happened at the other end of the ice had never happened at all, and Mac wondered how painful it really was, to never say anything at all.


	7. Footprints forward are footprints back

Mac had always been one to rush things. He hated waiting, hated not knowing. It was agonizing- but now, now he couldn't bear to do anything but wait. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, exactly, what he wanted to see happen, but he was willing to wait anything out, at this point. It was a lot easier than doing anything, that was for sure.

He'd walked into the lodge, seen Viggo in the front room, and walked right back out, intent on waiting longer instead of facing the Swede at that moment. Instead, he'd gone looking for Nate.

Mac found the other boarder at the ice rink, where Nate seemed to spend a good majority of his free time, whenever Johan wasn't at the lodge with him. The fact that Mac knew this pinged him with that haunting self-consciousness he always had, worry he was just annoying Nate, because maybe, Nate didn't want the brother he'd never had the way Mac did. Maybe he'd been perfectly happy without that. Mac shoved those thoughts aside as he rounded the rink, spotting Nate talking to the goalie over the boards around the ice. Mac slowed his pace as he neared, stopped out of sight cautiously. "I missed the first period," Nate was saying, "how was it?"

"Wasn't even part of the same game," the goalie said sadly, "it went great."

"Figures I'd miss the good one, right?" Nate smiled, "you gotta invite someone that doesn't always come late."

"Yeah, well," Johan shrugged a shoulder, "y'know. You do show up," he added, smiling. "And seeing as you can't play, I'm guessing it's not for hockey lessons. You'll do."

"I... I probably should talk to you about it all. I've been meaning to." Nate was suddenly more serious, and Mac wondered then if he should leave.

"Never known you not to talk," Johan said, leaning on the boards. Mac ducked back behind the tree, safe distance away. The small crowd of spectators was starting to wander away, making it easier to overhear; Mac wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing. "What is it?"

"Well..." Nate was studying his gloves. Mac sensed he was watching something heavily personal, but was scared to move and draw attention to himself and away from them. Nate was quiet, and Mac wondered if he knew the way Johan was looking at him.

He realized it then, with a stabbing suddenness, and felt unrelenting sympathy, so much that he nearly ran in his determination to leave. As he trudged through the snow, he heard someone hissing his name, and then Allegra nearly pounced on him.

"What was that about?"

"You were spyin' on him?" Mac asked.

"I was looking for Nate, wanted to borrow his M-comm. What was going on, you think?"

"I'unno," Mac shrugged, and she barely noticed.

"They never said anything, anyways. Got interrupted."

Mac breathed a sigh of relief at that, sympathy for the goalie he barely knew, who'd been about to receive the words Mac himself dreaded.  _What will you do,_  he wanted to ask the goalie,  _if that's what he'll say?_

"I hope it wasn't anything bad. Nate looked awful serious."

Later, Mac was playing video games with Griff, losing badly because his head was elsewhere, so detached he didn't even mind the losses.

"Got you again!" Griff cheered, as Mac's character slumped to the ground onscreen. Mac frowned, as the game restarted. He wasn't entirely sure he still liked the ability of the handheld game to connect to others and allow them to play together. All he'd done so far on the wifi connection was lose.

"You've lost your touch, mate," Moby contributed cheerily; he was playing a racing game on the TV screen, sprawled on the couch, taking up all the space but the corner Viggo was tucked into. Before Mac could find a reply, someone knocked on the lodge front door. "I'm not gettin' it. It's open, right?"

"Zoe locked it to keep Psymon out," Viggo stated. He changed the TV channel to a documentary on lions, then to a sci-fi movie with a ten-legged something rampaging through a forest before Moby snatched the remote back and returned it to his game.

"But he uses the windows." Moby pointed out.

"Which is why he's inside now."

Knocking again, softly.

"But she locked the windows. Taped 'em shut, I mean."

"Only the downstairs ones." Viggo shrugged.

"So... how...?"

"Don't underestimate the guy. He's scary creative."

"C'mon, mate, you think he seriously got up to the second floor?"

"Didn't you see the rope from the roof?"

"I figured- I don't know, I just didn't think he'd be scaling the bloody lodge..."

There was silence for ten minutes, until there was more insistent knocking on the door.

"They haven't gone yet?" Viggo asked.

"Mate, I am not gettin' up."

"Well, me neither," Viggo said, and Mac tossed down his controller and went to answer the door. Johan was shivering on the doorstep, offered half a smile.

"Nate around?" he asked, and Mac nodded, beckoned him inside.

"Out back, c'mon." He shut the door; Moby was leaning over the back of the couch, and waved at Johan.

"Sorry 'bout the wait outside," he said, as there was a crash from upstairs. Psymon appeared in the stairway.

"I'd be careful walking in our room," he tossed over to Moby, grinning, "glass and all." Moby groaned loudly, dropping his head into his hands.

"Can't you use the door? Like a normal person?" Psymon just stared at him.

"No," he said simply, then looked at Johan. "You're that hockey guy that follows Nate around." Johan blinked, clearly taken aback by the description.

"Uh... yeah." He was almost blushing.

"Canadian, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Now, I have a question," Psymon said conversationally, leaning on the armchair, "I never learned all this Canadian stuff, so I'm curious. Canadians are supposed to be all nice and non-confrontational, yeah?" Johan nodded slowly. "So, if I came over and punched you, would you hit me back?"

"Uh..." The look on Johan's face was one of blunt surprise, "please don't."

"So you're saying you wouldn't."

"I... might."

"Can I try it? To get a definite answer?"

"...No." Johan turned to Mac for a moment, gaze quickly returning to Psymon, "Can't we go find Nate now?" he was almost pleading. As Mac led him from the room, he heard Psymon ask Moby if the same rules applied to what Psymon called 'you-mate-saying-people,' and then there was the distinct sound of furniture being knocked over. "No offence, but the people here are sorta strange..." Johan said, following Mac out the kitchen back door, to the deck.

"Tell me 'bout it, man. I live here." Mac let the door slam shut behind them. "What are they doin'...?" The clearing was surrounded by sky-high pines, laden with snow. Brodi was sitting high in the tree, binoculars in hand.

"You're missing this," he called down, "what a beautiful bird!"

"I'm not breaking my neck for a bird..." Nate was muttering, standing in the snow, as Kaori tried to climb up the tree.

"Brodi-san, how did you climb so fast?" she reached for the next branch. Mac cut a glance at the goalie. Johan was watching Nate, blue eyes reflecting the sort of longing he knew Nate had never seen.

"Nate!" Mac shouted, and he noticed that the second Nate looked over, Johan had hidden that look, so effectively Mac would have never known it was there. It was like an art, all that deception. Thinking of it as deception, though, made Mac wonder whether Nate had some sort of right to know. Nate crossed the snow, abandoning the duo hell-bent on seeing a bird.

"Hey," he stepped onto the deck, curious gaze going to Johan, "what's up?"

"Dying to know what you were going to say," the goalie said, and Mac was silent even though he wanted to stop him, "wanna go grab lunch and finish?" Maybe Mac had imagined the way Nate went a little still, and maybe he'd imagined the way Johan's voice had quivered, and maybe it was better if he didn't think about it at all. He retreated back inside as they left, and collapsed on the now-vacant couch.

Mac nearly screamed when Allegra pounced him from behind.

"You gotta stop doin' that!" he yelped, ducking away. She smirked, climbing onto the couch next to him.

"I think I know what they were talking about" she leaned in to whisper, and Mac was silent. "I mean, I've never seen Nate look so serious..."

"Care 'ta share?" he grumbled.

"I think Nate's secretly dating Johan's sister and has to tell him because they're gonna elope," She whispered, and Mac stared, "because they discovered that aliens are living in Atlantis, and they have to go undercover."

"Uh...huh..."

"Or," she went on, "maybe Nate realized Johan's secretly hating him."

"Say what?" he choked, and Allegra clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shhh, won't you? Am I right, or am I right? He's an assassin assigned to kill Nate. He's telling Nate to save his life."

"You're wrong," Mac whispered back fiercely when she removed her hand, "Man, Allegera, any idiot could tell that Nate's gonna tell Johan he knows he's-" he cut off sharply, and she looked annoyed.

"Well?"

"Nothing," Mac mumbled, "'s not my deal. Ask him if ya wanna know so bad."

"I won't tell, promise," she said, "I'm just worried about 'em is all. Please?" She said, as he considered it, "C'mon. I won't tell."

"I'm not sure what it is." Mac said, shaking his head, "but I think it's gotta do with... their... uh... relationship."

"They're still friends, aren't they?"

"I'unno," Mac said absently, "hope so."

Mac had never known it, but he hated parallels just as much as he hated waiting around. When things mirrored his own life too closely, it felt like he was doomed to the same fate. If he was right, if he was unfortunate enough to be right, then the example that had been set wasn't good, and the outlook for him was worse.

If what might be happening was any preview for what was to come for him, Mac had more to dread than he'd imagined.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that evening, Nate was sitting in the kitchen, staring down at his phone on the table. It had yet to ring. He doubted it ever would, doubted even more that he'd be using it to call.

Mac was poking through the refrigerator, a quiet din coming from his headphones. He was leaning into the refrigerator, reaching for something way in the back. When Elise walked into the kitchen, Nate flinched, but when she pulled the refrigerator door open wider, Mac jumped and cracked his head on the shelf.

"You're a basket case," Elise observed, as Mac remembered how to breathe evenly. "Freaked out about something?" she said, and Nate was glad she wasn't talking to him.

"No," he said defensively, and she shrugged. Nate breathed a sigh of relief- maybe she wasn't here for him- only to flinch when he heard her voice again.

"What's with you?" she was saying

"Nothing." Nate said, flat and expressionless, because he couldn't really bring himself to think about her, not now..

"You suck at lying."

Mac leaned around the door to watch them; Nate inwardly cringed. Mac followed him around like a little brother, and somehow, that had turned into Nate striving not to be something of a bad example for Mac. It was stupid, he knew- Mac wasn't some impressionable little kid, he was past that age, long past it, but still. Nate hated screwing up in front of the kid.

"So?" Nate squared his shoulders, "speaking of lying, care to tell me why you hate me now?"

"Not really."

"She read an article." Zoe interrupted, looking in at them from the other room, making Elise glare, "said you were in love with her."

"With you?" Nate said, a dull sort of shock in his voice, "No. I'm not." He probably should have put something into that- apology, guilt, whatever, but he couldn't. Elise went pink and mumbled something about the media lying before dragging Zoe out of the kitchen.

"She thinks I'm in love with her," he shook his head, frowning, "man, I can't do anything right. Nothing at all," he muttered under his breath, reaching for his phone again. All he did, though, was stare at its blank screen.

Johan wasn't going to call him. That much was obvious. Nate would be lucky to go back home and find that Johan hadn't moved out of the apartment across the hall. Hell, Nate couldn't even tell himself Johan was going to stay in the city. Not after the way he'd looked at Nate. Not after the way Nate had just- just said it, as if it meant nothing to him, as if he'd always known and had been using it and just gotten tired of the whole thing.

It was still echoing in his mind, and he didn't know if he hoped it would someday leave him, or if he wanted to hang onto the memory, because it was doubtlessly the last thing Johan would ever say to him. Wasn't much of a last memory.

He'd gone all pale, all horrified and shocked, backed up a few steps. For a moment, Nate had been worried he'd been wrong, but after that- being right looked worse. He'd put off saying it all afternoon, and it had been when Johan was dropping him off back here that he'd realized he hadn't said anything at all, and maybe he'd never get to again. After all, Johan had come asking to know. He'd just gotten out of the car- truck, Johan always said smugly, and God, he was such a narcissist sometimes and never seriously, it was hilarious, but it was a freakin' SUV- to check something with the trunk. And then Nate had just come out and said it- no warning, nothing, and Johan hated surprises. Nate had always known that. But he'd done it anyways, and Johan- Nate hated himself, he really did.

" _I- fuck, Nate, I- you weren't-"_ steps backward in the snow, left footprints, and if anyone came along later and saw them, it'd look like someone had approached someone else, not staggered away, retreating, fleeing. Maybe Nate hated that most of all- it looked like taking steps forward, but it was back, just back.  _"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I never meant to,"_ and when he'd looked away, Nate knew it was because there were tears welled in those blue eyes. Nate had walked away then, because Johan was going to leave anyways, and letting him go was the last thing Nate could give him.

His phone rang once, just once, and then stopped.


End file.
